


Space Oddity

by skekshroom



Category: District 9 (2009), Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alien/Human Relationships, Aliens, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Breakups, Crossover, F/M, For both OW and D9, Friendship/Love, Interspecies Relationship(s), Love Triangles, M/M, Multi, Possibly Unrequited Love, Post-Omnic Crisis, Prawns (District 9), Pre-Canon, Pre-Fall of Overwatch, Reader-Insert, The Poleepkwa land in Jo'burg in the 2030s, Xenophilia, Xenophobia, i genuinely dont know if this is going to be more district 9 or more overwatch or a clean 50 50
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2020-10-12 12:20:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20564234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skekshroom/pseuds/skekshroom
Summary: You leave your job working as a secretary for a lab in the Hague, Netherlands where a scientist is attempting to harness black holes; and now work with marooned extraterrestrials leading an underground revolution in Johannesburg, South Africa.Talk about a promotion.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Bruh I've been obsessed with the District 9 movie/blog posts but still on that Overwatch stuff it's crossover time BAYBEE

**Quite a while ago, according to you:**

You enjoyed your day job at the Hague Laboratories of Astrophysics and Technology, or HLAT for short. You were the first face people saw when they walked in, and who they went to for direction. You were well liked, even friends with a the majority of the staff. People liked you. They enjoyed your work ethic and your consistent manners and courtesy.

It was all very nice, but, in a way it wasn't exactly enough.

Manning the front desk paid well of course, but you still felt the need to work weekends at a cafe down the street. Just in case, you always told yourself, just in case the need arose and you needed extra money.

Maybe one job just didn't seem like enough, despite how taxing it was and how much energy it took. It just didn't seem like enough to keep you on the road to the successful life you'd always dreamed for yourself. And being the workaholic you were, that was pinnacle to your well being.

Still, you liked your job. And you liked one coworker of yours in particular.

"Let me get that for you, (y/n)." The door you were just about to pull open evaded your grasp. You smiled up at the shining face of Professor Siebren de Kuiper as you stepped into the HLAT lobby.

"Thank you Siebren!" You chirped as you made your way to the front desk. You sat down and smiled at the astrophysicist as he walked by.

Dr. Siebren de Kuiper was the fascinating man from sector sigma of the west west of the building. He was mysterious to many, oversharing about his work yet never giving a straight answer about the nature of it. He was elusive to most, but a close friend to you. His work was always groundbreaking and he was revered for his contributions to the scientific community.

However, you liked him most for his charming smile and the way he never seemed to register how hot his coffee was.

On your lunch break you had stopped by Cafe Theta and bought a bagel with your employee discount. However, for coffee you opted for using the machine in the break room. (Y/n), frugal as ever.

"Hi Siebren," You nudged open the door with one hand and strolled over to his desk where he slaved away at equations. "Working hard I see."

The professor chuckled and nodded, watching you set down a coffee for him. He picked it up, blowing the steam from it's surface and taking a tentative sip. It was still far too hot. 

Siebren set it down, popping off the lid and letting it cool. He took another sip. Still too hot. He tried again, finally giving in and settled for chatting between gentle blowing.

"Harder than ever, it feels like. I think I might be onto something, though. I'm on the edge of something, (y/n), I can feel it." Dr. de Kuiper wagged his pen. It slipped from his fingers and clattered on the floor. The clumsy scientist quickly ducked after it to retrieve it.

"It's just... It's all starting to come together." Siebren took a satisfied sip of his coffee. Finally, it was cool enough. "It's amazing. Absolutely incredible. I'm going to be running a few more tests, and then the real experiments begin." He had a certain sparkle in his eye, just a hint of giddy excitement that he didn't ever truly bother to hide. His was the face of a man who truly loved his work.

"That sounds fascinating," You smiled behind your drink.

"It's marvelous, really (y/n)," He grinned from ear to ear, clasping his hands together. "Oh I can't WAIT to show you. Say, if you are interested, might I be able to tell you about my findings over dinner?"

You laughed, not out of surprise or at his proposal. He's asked you out plenty of times, this excuse, however, was new.

"Oh Siebren, all that science-talk is lost on me, I'm afraid." You beamed, putting a hand to your chest in mock flattery. "But how could I refuse such an honor?"

Siebren and you set a time and date, his hand finding yours as he continued to babble on, looking enamored at you until your phone's alarm went off and it was back to work for you. 

He watched you with a content sigh as you left, eyes lingering on you and soaking up every last bit until you disappeared down the hallway.

(Y/n), always so polite, always so cordial. You were courteous to everyone in the building, and he knew you were friendly with them all too but what the two of you had, was something quite incomparable to that. Though the two of you had never made anything official, you both were well aware of how the other felt. Still, he hoped that sooner rather than later, you'd change that. Perhaps over dinner he'd finally pop the question.

The lobby was just about empty. Nobody came in, nobody came up to the front desk. The only thing that could be heard was the distant footsteps from further inside the facility, the muffled sounds of outside, and the click of your mouse. A part of you got the urge to check a blog you'd found to see if the writer had updated. 

After some weak attempts at dissuasion you gave in and looked up the title:

MNU Spreads Lies.

Allegedly, it's being written by one of the aliens that have landed in Johannesburg, South Africa. His English name is Christopher, and he's exposing the underbelly of the world renowned company Multi National United.

The MNU is involved with HLAT, and you remembered as a kid their offices were peppered around the American town which you hailed from. However, their first and foremost base of operations was in Jo'burg.

When you read the blog, it shocked you how badly the aliens, er- Poleepkwa were apparently being treated according to Christopher. Especially surprising was how well spoken he was when the MNU had said in news reports that "unfortunately, the Poleepkwa are of very low intelligence and are barbaric in nature".

You didn't know what you were feeling. You didn't know what to believe either. Would you take the word of this blog, or that of your fellow human and omnic?

You supposed it didn't really matter. If there was even a chance that this was all true, it was worth getting behind. You wanted to help but all the blogging and advocation in the world didn't seem to change anything. Should you advocate for people to boycott? Stop applying there? What would help?

An idea tapped gently at the lightbulb in your head and there was a moment of flow processing quiet before the notion reared back and uppercut you full force.

If you were to get a job in MNU, you could help weed out the immorality from the inside out. Would it work? Maybe. Maybe not; but it was a chance you were more than willing to take.

You realized that your hunt for success, a meaningful path in life, may have just reached a checkpoint.

So during your usual skim for better paying jobs after you got home from cafe Theta, you looked up openings in the MNU. 

You steeled yourself, and for the first time, you sent Christopher a private message.

_Hi Christopher_

_My name is (y/n), and I work for an MNU partnered facility, but I'm applying to MNU with this blog in mind. I know that might sound counter productive, but I think the best way of dismantling a corrupt system is to put people in that want that system gone, if that makes sense. I want to help your people, and I think having support on the inside can make a big difference._

_Best wishes_

_(Y/n)_


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all!! Sorry for slow updates, I've been working on other projects. This story will continue though!!  
In the meantime, be sure to check out other stuff I'm working on!  
Currently: Parasite Bay, a sci-fi webcomic available on Webtoons (and Tapas)  
Maybe later: Silas, a horror webcomic, and God's Blue Europa, another sci-fi webcomic  
Thanks for sticking around and I hope you enjoy this chapter!!

"So, I've got some pretty exciting news too." You stifled a grin, biting your lip and looking away in excitement. If you didn't tell Siebren you were going to burst, and he could tell. He cocked his eyebrow.

"Yes, please share!" Siebren laughed sheepishly, fiddling with his napkin. "Sorry, I've been rambling." 

"No, it's alright!" You assured him. He had been rambling, but it wasn't as if you minded. The only downside was that his dinner was cooking and he'd barely touched it yet. "But yes, my good news- you've heard of MNU right?"

Siebren nodded quickly, eyes wide and full of wonder and his mouth full of hachée.

"I got a job there!" You announced.  
"That's wonderful, we'll be right next to each-"

"I got a job at the main HQ! In Johannesburg!" You blurted out, barely able to contain your excitement. You stared at him, grinning and leaned forward, expectant. You two stood in a standstill for many moments. Soon, the silence became awkward, and tension became thick enough to cut with a knife. Siebren swallowed thickly as your shoulders slowly fell and your smile faltered. You sat back, frowning.  
"What's wrong?" You couldn't help but feel a little shot down as Dr. de Kuiper coughed, wiping his mouth and blinking rapidly.  
"I... had no idea you were searching for a new job." He croaked. That's it? You looked around awkwardly, giving him a cringe and a small nod.  
"Yeah, uh... I work two jobs, Siebren. I've been looking for something more, well, I don't know... Stable? Fulfilling? Successful...?" You folded your hands, feeling discomfort prickle along your neck.

"I'm happy for you!" Siebren interjected. "I am so, so very happy for you! This is wonderful, I'm very proud of you." Siebren placed a hand over yours, earnestly reassuring you.  
"But?"  
"But I just... would really hate to see you go." Siebren looked dejected and you froze. It hadn't occurred to you. Somehow, some way, by some incredible _fluke_ you had somehow managed to not think in gruesome, graphic detail about how this would mean parting ways from Siebren.

You winced.

Okay, you liked Siebren. You really, really liked Siebren, but there was a lot coming between the two of you. First of all, you were married to your job, and you were pretty sure no human on earth could change that. Even if they were as perfect and wonderful and smart and kind and funny and _beautiful_ as Siebren. Even if they were your absolute favorite person, like Siebren is. Your job was your life partner. Success was your soulmate.  
It wouldn't be a lie, <strike>at least, you think it wouldn't be</strike>, to say that you're in love with him. You'd never felt so attached to someone, or been so happy to wake up and see someone in the morning like you are with Siebren. You love him.

But your mind kept traversing back to the few times he had slipped his hand onto your thigh under the desk at work. You had given him that miserable look and told him quietly to "keep it professional". He'd retract his hand before you had the chance to swat it away and the two of you would sit in doleful silence. He kept staring at you, and you only continued with paperwork until he left.

But yes, you love him.

"Have you really, truly thought this over, (y/n)?" Siebren leaned forward sadly. You didn't move.

Of course you've thought this over. You love him, <strike>You couldn't describe how you felt for him otherwise.</strike> but you were taking a job that was truly important to you, and that pulled a certain card in the direction of your life that your adoration for Siebren did not. At the end of the day, the reason you came in every day was for a paycheck, not him.

And sure, you loved working at the front desk at HLAT, but it wasn't exactly life altering work. The only difference you made in people's lives was telling someone that yes, B floor does stand for basement, and no, the elevators are not broken if they don't play music.

At MNU, you could be changing lives, saving lives, helping nonhumans stand in the face of oppression. It was all so idealistic, but it was doing something with your life. This was your chance at filling that void that festered inside you. This was your chance at finding meaning in life, real meaning. And besides, because of some complicated jurisdiction shit you didn't bother to memorize, you could switch back to HLAT if you found you hated MNU.

"I'm sorry, Siebren." You squeezed his hands sympathetically. "We'll keep in touch, I promise."

"Right." Siebren pursed his lips. He reached for his drink, but nearly dropped it. Clearing his throat, he smiled and lifted his glass. "Well... to success."

"To success."

\---------------------------

Christopher closed his laptop and hid it deep in his run down home. He sat back and sighed. This could be another dishonest human. Another lying soft fleshed monster out to deceive and torment him. His immediate reaction was to tell the human to knock off the trolling and have some shame. But he realized thus far that revolutions required hope and just as important, help. He supposed he would have to keep an eye out for a (y/n) in MNU next time he crosses paths with the agency.

The outlander trudged over to his bed, laying down and staring at the ceiling. If there was any hope that this (y/n) was legit, then they could be a valuable asset. He looked over at where his kids, Sherry and Oliver slept peacefully.  
Any risk for them was a risk worth taking. He had to give them a better life. He had to give everyone a better life.

Christopher rolled over, an agitated rattle emanating from behind his mandibles. He closed his eyes.  
There was a weight on the outlander's shoulders. He felt the burning need for justice for his people, the distrust of humans, and a homesickness that persisted throughout it all. He wanted Sherry and Oliver to be able to see the home world. _He_ wanted to see his home world. He wanted to go home.

This world was rotten to the core, he'd seen enough of it to know that.  
He supposed this was the reason he wanted so badly that the few human supporters he had on his blog were real. If people were spreading the word, sparking conversation, protest, direct action- it would all ease the odds against his people, if only by a little bit.

Before he closed his eyes, he stole one last protective glance at his two children.  
There wasn't a length he wouldn't go to protect them. He would always have their back, no matter what. He just wondered who in this hell would have his.


	3. Chapter 3

Working for the MNU, you spent a lot longer in an office than you had thought you would. Not doing a lot of social work for a social worker, you mentally commented. But it still felt important. The hopes and dreams in your head had yet to be replaced with a sadistic sense of bitter hopelessness. You were fresh, green, and fully believing you could use your position in MNU to save Poleepkwa lives. You weren't cynical yet.

Surreptitiously, you kept an eye out for Poleepkwa named Christopher. While you fully believed it might just be a screen name and his actual English name would be something vastly different, a sliver of hope compelled you to take jobs that required you meet with nonhumans with said name. You hoped nobody would notice a pattern.

"Will you please give us a moment?" You turned to your MNU armed escort, Leon, simply rolled his eyes and stepped outside. By now, you were several weeks into your practice and this was standard procedure for you. In the beginning, when you first suggested giving you a moment alone with the Poleepkwa so that they can feel comfortable speaking without a weapon being pointed at them, your escorts had called you crazy. They initially refused, but you were persistent, and your escorts simply allowed it with a "its your funeral".

You turned back to your client as Leon stepped out.  
"Now, Mr. Johnson what you say here is entirely confidential. You can speak freely with me." You assured. Christopher seemed to wince, glancing nervously at the door.  
"Are you sure?" He chirruped lowly. You nodded. He talked about his day to day life in District 9. He talked about what he did while Leon was still in the room, but this time he talked about how he lived.  
He talked of what he felt, and what he wished were different. You nodded along with him, mentally taking notes. Privacy was a pinnacle concern, and you didn't want to alarm him by jotting things down on your clipboard.

"I hate living like this." He confessed. "I'd do anything to get out of this situation. Out of having agents terrorize us, of being treated as inferior."  
"And you know you're completely right for feeling this way," Your voice was barely above a whisper, looking back and forth between the outlander and the door to ensure you weren't being overheard. "This isn't fair. Nobody deserves this."  
Christopher narrowed his eyes.  
"If you think so, then why don't you do something about it, human?"

You blinked owlishly.

It was during this meeting that you a daunting realization hit you like a ton of bricks. You were not doing nearly enough.  
You had left your life behind to join the MNU and help influence the corporation to being truer to their word. You were out in the field, encouraging hope and humanization and a sense of identity in your clients.  
But it wasn't enough.  
It wasn't nearly enough.

All you were doing was talking at them, it was your days of long distance activism all over again. At the end of the day as much as you cheer-leaded these people, you were taking no weight off of their shoulders. They still slept under sheets of metal and dog piss.

You opened your mouth to speak, pursed your lips and closed your eyes, thinking. You sighed, nodded, and looked away.  
"What can one person do?" You piped up. Christopher leaned back in his seat, chuffing out an alien laugh.

"Now you know how we feel."

\-------------------------

Christopher's words stuck to you the way grease stuck to the bottom of your shoe when you stepped in a puddle of leaked oil. It tracked practically all the way back to your house.  
The Poleepkwa felt helpless. You felt helpless. How were you going to help break this cycle?

Your phone buzzed and you picked it up. It was a text from Siebren.

_Hey (y/n) <3 I miss you. How is MNU?_

You groaned. you wanted to tell him how in over your head you were, how invested you were in all of this yet not invested enough. You wanted to tell him how a part of you wished you were ignorant to these issues but the rest wouldn't be able to live with yourself if you just turned a blind eye to the. You didn't want to talk about a boring office job or kissing up to asshole supervisors. You wanted to tell him about Christopher Johnson, and how his words kept echoing in your head. You wanted to tell him about your first time seeing a barbet fly overhead and its shrill cry, or describe how the people drove, or the tiny hairs on the Poleepkwa carapace. 

Instead, you picked up your phone and said something entirely different.

_hey sieb! miss u too. mnu is incredible. i'm really happy here._

Timezones away, a man read this with a bittersweet smile across his face. He held his head in one hand and let out a shaky sigh.


	4. Chapter 4

You were a step closer to successfully solving this mystery of who Christopher was. The last client you had was strikingly similar to the outlander blogger. He didn't seem to have kids in his house, but hell, if you were attempting to conceal your identity you might stretch a detail like that too. He could still be the same Christopher, everything else checked out. He had that sense of rebellion to him, that wisdom and patience and the desperation for change.

The curiosity was eating away at you like a bug and you found yourself throwing open your emails.

_Hi Christopher,_  
This might seem oddly specific, but did anyone come by your house the other day?  
I feel like we've might've met but I'm not sure.

_Peace,_

_(Y/n) _

You closed your computer and paced. Right now, it was a rare moment where you weren't working. It was oddly still, like battling your way through a crowded sidewalk and stumbling into an abandoned grocery store. Oddly quiet, oddly serene. Eerie, almost.  
You walked circles around your small house, considered working out, starting a journal, cooking something, anything to keep you busy.. You settled on flipping your laptop back open and sending a few messages back home.  
You emailed your family, asking them how everyone is and how thing are back in your hometown. You sent a quick message to Siebren, telling him you'd try to visit sometime in the next few months, and that you two should catch up when you do.

You missed your old home, and you missed your family. You missed Siebren. You closed your eyes and curled into your small sofa.  
You wanted to miss him, but you were so absorbed by everything that was happening around you.  
This was all so much bigger than some office romance from your old job.

\-------------------------------

Maybe (y/n) had a point. For all the sunny exterior and charming front, they had always barred themselves off from other people. He was the closest anyone's ever gotten to winning their heart, but they still were heads over heels with one thing and one thing only: success.

They spoke about it nonstop. Two jobs to ensure success, outstanding performance in both to guarantee success, planning for success, learning how to improvise for success-

Dr. de Kuiper threw himself into his work. Without (y/n) here to distract him, he was devote himself to his research. It was hard at first, then liberating, but it made him wonder-

Is this how (y/n) felt? Unobstructed? Equipped with a one track mind that's honed in on efficient results and an end prize?  
Is the way he felt when you were gone the way you felt when he was around?

He didn't realize how hard he was gripping his pen until he heard a crack. Students in the front row of his class glanced up. He gave a sheepish smile and grimaced as he looked away.  
Clearly not, else he wouldn't be thinking about you at all. Sooner or later he'd stop thinking about you. Being the hopeless romantic he is, it was certainly a difficult task, but for the sake of his own success he had to.

He poured himself into his work.

"Professor, you've been here all night." Dr. Harold Winston knocked on his office door. The professor lifted his heavy head, eyes baggy and blinking hard. He scratched his stubble.  
"I have, haven't I?" He mumbled. Harold frowned and entered, closing the door behind him.  
"Siebren, you look unwell, what's been the matter?" He murmured. Siebren had no power to lie to this man.  
"Its just... (y/n) leaving, it's been hitting me quite hard, is all." He shifted his gaze to the floor, running his thumbs over each other. "I've contacted them and... Well, they're happy in Johannesburg. They're happy working with the outlanders."

"Good for them, then." Harold smiled somberly. "You're still here, changing the world. If I were you, I'd be so proud."  
"You're a scientist too, Harold."  
"That's not what I mean."  
Siebren curiously looked over at Dr. Winston. His brown eyes were intense and scanning the soul behind his own dejected gaze.

"I mean you, Siebren. I know saying goodbye was a hard thing to do, it always is." He smiles. "But you have so many good qualities. (Y/n) might have left, but it isn't like they took the best parts of you with them."

Siebren blushed deeply. He should have felt embarrassed, but such a genuine compliment coming from such a kind person soothed that pit in his stomach, if not for a moment.  
Harold was right. He was more than the man who pined over the front desk secretary. He was a world renowned scientist, a professor to hundreds of students, a curious mind, an excellent sense of humor, a reliable friend. A reliable friend to Harold. A smile spread across his face. He nodded.  
"You're right. Thank you, Harold."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boy finna rebound good for him


	5. Chapter 5

_Aug 14_

_Journal entry 1_

_Today I begin a new chapter in my work for MNU. I'm shadowing the head of the relocation effort, Wikus van der Merwe. I'm not going to be doing any evicting myself. At least, I wasn't told that I will. Wikus seems like a hands on teacher, though, so I have a feeling I'm going to have a hand in some relocation. I'm not sure how I feel about that. _

_On one hand, this is their home. This is where they landed. We're kicking them out. On the other hand, maybe its better that the outlanders leave District 9? There's crime here, they're plagued by addiction and poor living conditions. In District 10 maybe we can rebuild, get them situated and finally get them back on the road to living in peace with us in society. Maybe even getting some of them back to their home planet, I know a lot of them want to leave.  
I hope I'm doing the right thing._

_  
(y/n) (l/n)_

You closed your laptop and walked to the window. Leaning against it, you looked out to the view of streets and the just risen sun reflecting from behind you onto the glass. It highlighted the world around you gold. Was there irony in that? Perhaps, but you weren't here to dig deep into the symbolic meaning of facing away from a sunrise.

For some reason, you were glad this window faced west. Somehow it was like being that much closer to home.   
Upon finishing that though, guilt seeped through you. If you were homesick here, you can only imagine how the Poleepkwa are feeling right now. You ripped yourself from the window and marched to the sink, washing your face and the tears that threatened to prickle out of the corner of your eyes. Get it together, (y/n). Get it together.

\---------------------------------

You sat quietly as Wikus gleefully explained his knowledge of the Poleepkwa to the cameraman, mentally cringing each time he tossed around the word "prawn". Suddenly the camera was on you.  
"So tell us, uh, who are you, what do you do?"  
"Oh, ah- My name is (y/n). (y/n) (l/n) I'm just- um, I'm just the social worker. A therapist of sorts." The smiled tightly and waved to the camera. The van you all were packed into jumped at the uneven road and you watched on as Wikus continued to chatter into the camera. Soon the convoy slowede to a stop, and as you all got out, chaos ensued. An agent attempted to move an outlander with an electric cattle prod, and unsurprisingly provoked them. In one gruesome motion, the outlander retaliated and tore the agents arm clean off, sending him flying with a powerful kick.

You gasped, the color draining from your face as you backed up. Wikus rummaged through a pack and began to the throw canisters stored inside.  
"Is that teargas?" Someone behind you piped up, repeating himself a couple of times before Wikus denied.  
"It's catfood, I just distract them!" He announced between throws.

You watched in dumbfounded shock as it worked and Wikus called a medical team to assist the dismembered agent. You gulped, the gravity of the situation suddenly finding you.

What a hell of a fucking way to start the day.

\---------------------------------

Jack Morrision's world has been a damn mess.

After Overwatch fell, and he "died" in the public eye, he thought things couldn't get more complicated. A couple of decades ago, aliens fell from the sky in South Africa and have been staying in a designated area since. That sure as hell shook a lot of things up. So many people had so much to say, it was demanding to expect anyone to keep up with it all.

What he did know, though, is that the omnic crisis followed far too quickly for him to have any kind of trust of the outlanders. The omnic crisis was bad. Bad enough to shake the world for generations, and it was pretty safe to say that part of it could be attributed to the arrival of aliens and their highly effective technology. The whole situation was devastating, and it was not at all far fetched to connect the dots and come to the conclusion that whatever technology had been taken from those outlanders was the same used to build half the omnics during the war. But that was old news. Now, something new decided to rear its head.   
Allegedly, there's been talk spreading all the way from Johannesburg, South Fuckin' Africa that nobody can either conform or deny. How does a rumor spread overseas without even an inkling of hard proof for either side? It was baffling, but still all over radio comms Jack was tapped into across the world.

  
Apparently, the MNU, the most goody two shoes agency known to mankind, is abusing the aliens they've been accommodating for the past, what, 20 years? To Jack it sounded ridiculous at first. But then again, he knew better than to trust an international corporation at face value. 

He thought back to the reason he joined Overwatch. To protect the innocent. Were these people, outlanders they might be, not innocent?  
He thought on it for a while as he cleaned his gun, perched in a high placed nook in the side of a wall.  
There was only so long he could spend in Dorado. He needed somewhere to go. Somewhere that needed a soldier.

If Jack Morrison threw a dart at a map, he had a hunch it'd land on Johannesburg.


End file.
